


Forgiveness

by kitkatkaylie



Series: Tumblr fics [7]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence - Red Wedding, Forgiveness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:22:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25208413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkatkaylie/pseuds/kitkatkaylie
Summary: The fall of the Dreadfort was anticlimactic in the end, what Robb found in the its kennels was certainly not.
Relationships: Theon Greyjoy/Robb Stark
Series: Tumblr fics [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1774048
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	Forgiveness

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: “I need you to forgive me.”

Robb swallowed heavily at that sight of the Dreadfort before him, the last of the traitorous Bolton’s was holed up inside. He had survived the attempt of the Freys and Boltons to kill him, had survived the Lannister plot to destroy him and his army.

And now he was taking revenge.

They would tear down the castle stone by stone, just as they had torn down the Twins, just as they were going to tear down Casterly Rock and the Red Keep itself.

His army advanced forwards, thousands of men devoted purely to destroying those who would have destroyed them. Jon stood by his side, recalled from the Wall and made his heir. 

It was anticlimactic in the end, how easily the Dreadfort fell.

They did not have the men to defend it, did not have the love for their leader to defend it. Once the Bolton bastard was dead so the men threw down their weapons and surrendered to Robb’s armies.

It was a bittersweet victory. One with no death on their side, but one with no glory either.

“Your Grace.” A weaselly looking man approached him and simpered, “Would you like to see your prisoner? We’ve kept him as you ordered.”

Robb struggled to think of to whom they might be referring, but he gestured for them to lead onwards, the Smalljon and Dacey at his back while Jon coordinated taking the final areas of the castle.

He was led, not to the dungeons as he might have expected, but to the kennels. Kennels which stank of blood and shit and rotting flesh. 

“In here, Your Grace.” The man bowed and lit the lantern upon the wall, illuminating pens filled with snarling hounds and old bones.

All except for one.

One pen contained a heap of old rags, a heap that moved and groaned at the light.

“Up Reek.” The man ordered, kicking the bars, “You have a visitor.”

The rag pile unfolded to reveal a man, one who was painfully thin and stooped like an old man.

He shuffled towards them, and at first Robb did not recognise him, not until he saw a pair of painfully familiar green eyes.

Eyes that he had once best known sparkling in the light of dawn or clouded with lust.

“Theon?” He whispered, almost not believing what he had seen.

Theon’s eyes widened and he fell to his feet in the open cell door with a loud thud. A joyous smile overtook his face, a smile which revealed missing and broken teeth where once there had been laughter.

“I didn’t kill them.” Theon whispered, “I didn’t kill them.”

“Didn’t kill who?” Robb said harshly, trying desperately not to feel pity for the man he had once loved.

“The boys.” Theon whimpered and rocked on the floor, “Bran and Rickon. I didn’t kill them.”

“And why should I believe you?” Robb turned away, unable to bear looking at his ruined form any longer.

“Because I am weak. Weak rhymes with Reek.”

There was something broken in his voice, something that sparked a spot of sympathy in Robb’s heart and reignited the love he had tried to smother.

He wanted to gather Theon to his chest, wanted to throw him away and curse his name. 

“Your name is Theon Greyjoy.” Robb snapped, unable to deal with hearing the name he had been given by the traitorous bastard.

“Are you going to take my head?” Theon stretches his neck in offering for the sword that hung on Robb’s belt.

Robb looked at him, really looked at him. Looked at the skeletal figure. Looked at the scars and still healing wounds. Looked at the face of the man he had loved for years. 

Looked at what his sending Bolton to capture Theon had wrought. 

And he made a decision.

“I need you to forgive me.” Robb fell to his knees and gathered Theon into his arms, “I sent Bolton after you. It’s my fault you suffered so.”

Theon lifted a hand and placed it gently against his cheek. “You don’t even need to ask. I will always forgive you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Find me on tumblr @istaricelebelasse


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